


Mass-Produced Faces

by zanthe



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthe/pseuds/zanthe
Summary: Central Factory has a peculiar smell to it.
Kudos: 39





	Mass-Produced Faces

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for: Descriptions of blood and guts n stuff.

Amidst the dry stench of molten metal and burning ether, Central Factory had another scent that made Shulk's stomach turn, but he couldn't place what exactly it was. It was pungent, and had the faint smell of iron, which was right at home here and yet it wasn't. 

For the most part, the party tried to stay clear of the Mechon patrolling the area, alert and on their toes as they traversed. Upon reaching the Control Tower, and fighting off a fussy Unique Mechon, Shulk realized the strange smell was stronger here, and, judging by Riki's bristling fur, it wasn't anything good.

Large metal doors opened to reveal Faces that all looked identical to Xord. Huge, bulky, and inactive, but they carried that stench, and it got worse as they fought.

After dispatching one, Dunban dislodged his sword from the side of one, only to recoil backwards with a disgruntled noise that Shulk had never heard from him before. "What is it?" He asked, and Dunban shook his head, showing the point of his sword to Shulk. Blood was dripping from it.

Homs blood.

Had they just killed someone?

Shulk felt frozen to the spot, watching blood trickle out of the Face's wounds, pooling on the floor before them. 

"Vanea told us there were no Homs in these mass-produced Faces..." Dunban's voice was low and deeply disturbed. "So then, what is the meaning of this?" He walked forward, and Shulk held an arm out to stop him, but couldn't. 

He took a step back instead, and Riki trotted up behind his legs, eyes squeezed shut. "Shulk no look." The Nopon said meekly. But Shulk couldn't bear to look away, he wanted to know the truth as well.

There was a sharp stabbing sound as Dunban thrust his blade into the metal, trying to pry it open. He cast a warning glance at Shulk when the boy tried to move towards him, reaching for the Monado. "You'll burn it shut, stay back." Shulk nodded, watching as Dunban heaved with effort until finally the armor gave way with a sickening squelch. 

More blood. It pooled on the floor, and Dunban used his sword to dig into the interior of the Face, pulling out an odd chunk of something with the tip and tossing it onto the floor. It was strange, a lot of the pieces were a bit like off-color meat. He picked up a piece of what appeared to be blood-soaked metal, giving it a look around before something white caught his eye. It was stuck to the interior of the metallic casing, little metal tubes ingrained within it, with a squishy red center.

Shulk dropped it the second he realized what it was, and Dunban stared at him.

"It's bone." He breathed out, trembling, and Dunban stared at the pile of metal and blood. It was bone, Homs bone. Marrow to produce blood, organs to pump it, tubes to help it flow. One of those odd chunks must've been part of a spinal cord... 

"Those chunks are organs, aren't they?" He scowled, leaping off the remains of the Face and sheathing his sword. He pulled Shulk away, Riki clinging to the boy silently like an orange burr. "Let's go get some air and report back to the others."

"Why didn't Vanea tell us?" Shulk wanted to throw up, the smell was overwhelming him, though not as much as the knowledge, or the fact his hands had that blood on them.

"She probably couldn't bring herself to," Dunban frowned, "you can ask her that yourself, though. Come on, we need to leave before the other Mechon notice us."


End file.
